Unfinished Affairs
by storyLil
Summary: She may have decided to leave him and the rest of their unruly gang behind out of some misguided need to keep them safe, but who ever said safety was what he wanted? He can't believe she's done this to him again. - This story picks up at the end of season three and continues throughout season four. Michael centric.
1. Wanted

_**A/N:** I've been toying around with an idea for an AU story for some time. Not sure if it will ever see the light of day, but in the meantime this one demanded to be written. Hope you like it._

 _Nikita is not mine, any mistake you will undoubtedly encounter, sadly is. Happy reading :)_

* * *

 **Unfinished Affairs**

 _She may have decided to leave him and the rest of their unruly gang behind out of some misguided need to keep them safe, but who ever said safety was what he wanted? He can't believe she's done this to him again._

 **Wanted**

Anger is an emotion Michael is familiar with.

From the day he entered Division up until now, he's felt it. Anger at Kasim for taking his family, at Percy for taking his life, at Nikita for leaving him for three years, at Cassandra and Nikita for keeping his son a secret from him, at Nikita for putting his son's life over hers, at Percy for being a psychopath bastard that never knew when to quit, at Amanda for hurting Nikita in every sick way she has ever come up with, at Nikita for taking his hand in order to save his life, at himself for being angry at Nikita for taking his hand, at Nikita again for leaving him behind. Again.

When he frantically runs down the stairs of the warehouse they've holed up in to try and catch up with her and she doesn't answer her phone, he knows. The light that reflects off the diamond they promised each other the rest of their lives with, presents him with unnecessary confirmation of what he can already feel in every fibre of his body.

She's gone.

* * *

A month passes. His anger at her for leaving him behind doesn't. He searches for her. He wants to know why. No that's not quite it. He knows why, he just doesn't understand.

Alex and Sonya have just left for India to work the human-trafficking angle. Ryan and Birkhoff are trying every other angle based from a cargo plane. All of them trying to expose the Shop, trying to clear Nikita's name so she can come back.

Michael can't stand to stay with them for more than a couple of days at a time. He's angry at them too.

Angry at the women, Alex mostly, for the look of concern she can't keep out of her eyes whenever she looks at him. Angry at Fletcher for accepting Nikita's decision to run off alone way too easily and angry at Birkhoff for trying to be his friend.

His best friend has left him, taking his heart with her. Without his heart he has no need for another friend.

* * *

Seven weeks and two days have passed when he thinks he's picked up her trail in Texas. He can't be sure it's really her, but something inside him says it is. He can feel it. So when the border patrol threatens to get on to her as well, he has Birkhoff working round the clock to keep them off her scent.

Birkhoff has some trouble, but Birkhoff wouldn't be Birkhoff if he didn't pull it off.

Too bad Nikita manages to disappear not only from the border patrol's radar but from theirs too. This pisses him off royally.

Fletcher and Birkhoff point out that maybe it wasn't her after all. This thought alone pisses him off even more.

* * *

Exactly one hundred days have gone by since he found the ring he had sought out so carefully and fought so hard to keep and slid onto her third finger so gently, mocking him from the brick window sill.

All of his leads on her have led to nothing. His anger at her for doing this to him, to them, hasn't dissipated in the slightest. Instead it has gained hopelessness for a partner and for the second time in his life Michael feels the cold claws of depression grasping at him. For a second he wonders why he should even bother to get out of bed this morning.

He's been having more and more trouble sleeping, managing only a few short hours at a time.

He doesn't dream anymore, which is a relief. It means he doesn't wake drenched in sweat anymore because in his dreams either she's returned to him as if she'd only stepped out for a bit, engagement ring still firmly around her finger and he shows her exactly how much he loves her still, how much he's loved her always. Or they've finally found her, dead, her frail body broken and bloody and he'll never be able to show her anything at all anymore.

 _What would be the use of trying to show her anything anyway?_ , he asks himself more and more. Love alone is not enough, not with them apparently. He's never been able to impress the knowledge upon her that there's more strength and safety in standing together than standing alone. At the first sign of a threat she takes over and takes charge, bypassing anyone and anything, doing whatever she feels is necessary, as she has been doing all her life. No room for discussion, just action.

He vows to himself that if he ever does find her, they won't be getting back together. He can't do this again. He can't lose her again and he's sure he will at some point. He doesn't want to go through this again. He's done.

He's going to have to figure out what to do with the ring that for the past hundred days has been residing in a little velour jewellery bag in the left pocket of the pants he happens to be wearing. He doesn't want to carry it around anymore, as a reminder of what could have been. It hurts too much.

He gets out of bed and dresses, removes the ring from his pocket and drops it into the bag containing his gear. Quite fittingly, it gets lost between guns and ammo instantly.

* * *

When he gets the call from Birkhoff that Shadownet's picked her up in Vermont, he pays for the triple espresso he's just ordered and asks to take it to go.

Bypassing the Feds to inspect all that Nikita's left behind when she made a break for it, is ridiculously easy. Figuring out where she went next only slightly less so and within an hour of receiving Birkhoff's call he's well on his way to New York, a mission profile forming in his head.

As soon as he arrives at ENN he realises his newly formed profile will need some adjustment. The FBI are absolutely everywhere.

He's not prepared for what the sound of her breathy voice speaking his name over the phone does to him. He has to steel himself to answer her. The slight panic in her voice almost makes his resolve crumble, almost. Until she takes over and starts calling the shots. He tastes blood from biting the inside of his cheek to prevent from blowing up at her. This is not the time.

He hangs up the phone though and rolls his eyes for good measure.

* * *

Birkhoff calls him back to tell him Nikita's stuck inside the building.

A little bit of clever improvisation lets her exfil soon enough and he's there waiting for her when she drops from the exhaust vent. He reaches out to her, her hand slipping into his as if it hasn't been one hundred days since they last touched. Their eyes lock and without even thinking, his hands span her waist. He lifts her down to the floor and for just a second nothing matters anymore except for the fact that he's holding her again. Like some horrible cliché, time just seems to slow, then stop altogether and all that crap as they lose themselves in each other's gaze, something he chastises himself for greatly later on.

He snaps out of it, but knows he's rambling when he tells her what's happening on the roof and he can't suppress the tingle that runs through him when he trails his fingers beneath her hair and over her ear to relieve her of her headset. Judging by the way Nikita immediately refocuses upon his eyes at his touch, Graham standing only a few feet away all but forgotten, it's the same for her.

The short reprieve from his wayward emotions at seeing her again before they're supposed to meet up at the zoo, lets him refocus on all the anger that has been driving him the last three plus months. Anger that gets lifted to a whole new level, when she doesn't show up at the meeting point.

He's just asked Birkhoff to find her when he hears the APB on the walkie he took from the deputy director and he's on his way tracking her. Again.


	2. Dead or Alive

**Dead or Alive**

He catches up to her in an animal hospital just as she passes out from blood loss. Checking her pulse and finding it weak but steady, he wastes no time. Quickly field-dressing the gaping hole in her shoulder, he picks her up and takes her back to the plane.

Birkhoff and Fletcher hover a little until he orders them to get the plane into the air and they get his unspoken meaning that he wants to be alone with her for now.

He cuts off her shirt and tends to her wound as best as he can. Given the fact that he has little more to work with than a first aid kit, cleaning it up and dressing it properly this time will have to do. For good measure he injects her with a broad-spectrum antibiotic and some non-narcotic painkiller. Then there's nothing more to do but block out the memories that had washed over him as he cared for her and watch over her until she regains consciousness.

She has a warm hug and a smile for both Birkhoff and Fletcher when she wakes and even though he's purposely kept her at arms length by keeping their conversation as businesslike as possible some small part of him is terribly stung that she doesn't at least try to reach out to him.

He decides this pain is something he can use, he considers it proof that he's right in his decision of not wanting to start things up with her again. Or is it?

Being in a confined space with her is messing with his resolve. He can't have that.

He wants them to clear her name, so that all of them can get on with their lives. Separately. The way Nikita had planned it when she left them all behind. As soon as possible.

* * *

Hearing her emotionally exclaim to Graham's double she gave up everything for even a shred of the truth makes his stomach clench painfully. His own grief for what used to be bubbling up unbidden. After that he makes sure there is as much distance between them as possible, asking Birkhoff to take over the care of her wound while he and Fletcher brainstorm and strategise their next move.

It becomes clear soon enough, drastic measures are needed if they want to get ahead of Amanda and the Shop. To his annoyance Nikita is the one who pitches the idea of how to get there. Fletcher runs with it and forces him to face the building tension between himself and Nikita that has most definitely not gone unnoticed by anyone when he says the plan will only work as a two man op.

He feels two pairs of eyes burning into him. When a third pair is about to be added as Nikita slowly turns around to face him, he quickly agrees to it and turns around to gather the required gear.

* * *

They don't speak to each other on the way to the parking garage. Nikita sighs numerous times. He knows she's trying to figure out a way to breach the silence between them, but doesn't know where to start.

He drops her off in front of the building from which roof she'll take the shot and he continues on into the garage across from it.

They talk shop a little after she confirms she's in position.

She steers the conversation in a more personal direction without knowing she does so when she tells him there are "some things you don't forget" in answer to his comment that she hasn't shot in a while.

"Let's hope not", he hears himself say out loud. He can't help the double meaning behind the words, his anger shining through. _You had no trouble forgetting about me when you decided to up and leave_ , he doesn't say out loud.

It's all she needs to cut to the heart of the matter. Getting angry herself when he brushes off her attempt at an explanation for what she did. They bicker over their comms until Nikita says she shouldn't even be here now, that she should leave again. He reigns himself in, firmly telling her "No" and then telling her once again that they're better off when they are working together, that she belongs with them.

The tone of her voice tells him she wants more from him when she asks after the reason he's upset with her. He can't give it to her though. And besides: _isn't that obvious?_ So he continues to use the well-being of the team as a shield to guard his battered heart and she shoots him. As planned.

* * *

His chest feels tight for two reasons after she's shot him. One physical, one not.

His emotions are wreaking havoc upon him and he knows Nikita isn't faring any better when they are on their way to Graham's residence.

He's grateful for the fact they still make a good team as far as missions go, it's what gets him through the awkwardness of being forced to be close to her for the duration of the next part of this particular op.

She looks like herself again. All cleaned up. Strong and collected. Focused too.

The 'highlights' of her time on the run make it into a tentative conversation between them while they set up the microphone and its remote to take out Graham's double.

He can smell her. She's that close to him. He's missed that smell, more than he's realised.

They resort to double speak again and he feels a tingling sensation in his lips when their eyes meet. In that moment he wants nothing more than to relieve the feeling by pressing his lips to hers. His body betraying him.

He spends seconds at war with himself, before refocusing on finishing up the camera set-up. And then he's out the van, on his way to switch the camera-bags.

* * *

Nikita falters when Amanda pulls out all the stops to prevent her from taking the shot at the double.

Frustration at her for not tuning Amanda out and doing what she has to do, ebbs away when he sees her breaking down right in front of him and remembers how much she's been hurt too. His hands close over hers in a move meant to both reassure and comfort. Despite everything she's put him through, he still can't bare to see her hurt and so he takes the shot himself.

She flinches violently when they hear Amanda executing the real Graham through their comms and buries her face in her hand. Not so long ago he would have taken her into his arms and kissed all her insecurities and grief away. Not now though.

It's not his place anymore.

* * *

When they get back to the plane Fletcher and Birkhoff are there to offer what he won't. They hug her close while speaking words of comfort and she kisses Birkhoff's cheek in thanks. He knows he has no right to feel jealous but he does.

He needs to get away from her, from all three of them.

He tells himself he's not hiding in the back of the plane, disassembling their gear. It doesn't matter. She finds him easily.

He knows why she's sought him out. She tries to talk to him about them, but he deflects. She calls him on it. Reaches out to him. Gently caresses his cheek. But he can't. He loves her still, he probably always will and he tells her in not so many words. But he just can't.

He's done and he needs her to leave him be. So he tells her, as he grasps her hand in his, taking it away from his face, "I am done fighting for us", and leaves her standing there. He doesn't notice the tears gathering in her eyes and he's already well away from her when the first one slips down her cheek.


	3. Set-Up

**Set-Up**

He wakes up in the middle of the night. Nikita's crying in her sleep, mumbling between sobs. He can just make out his name.

He can't see her as he has his back to her and part of him is glad for that. Again he finds himself at war with his own heart, not able to decide if he should go to her or not. If he even dares to. Chances are she'll sleep on, but what if she wakes while he tries to comfort her…?

In the end the decision is taken out of his hands as by now he's not the only one who has noticed Nikita's distress. He pretends to be asleep as he hears footsteps first and then the creaking of Nikita's bed as either Birkhoff or Fletcher sits down on it.

He presses his eyes tightly closed as he hears Nikita keening, grateful once more he can only hear her anguish. He doesn't think he could bare to watch it too. But his blocked view doesn't protect him from what he sees happening in his mind. He can well imagine Birkhoff stroking her hair or holding her hand as he hears him softly croon to her and she quiets down without waking.

It takes him a long time to fall back asleep himself. A good portion of it he spends cursing himself for not knowing what he wants.

* * *

She seems to be feeling a lot better the next morning. As if she's made up her mind herself and it's a relief they can tolerate to be in each other's vicinity a lot better now that the elephant in the room representing everything they haven't talked about, has almost magically shrunk into something a little more manageable overnight. They're even able to have a next to normal conversation again. Even if it is only a professional one.

When Graham's double's DNA results are tampered with right underneath Birkhoff's nose it shifts their focus even further away from the tattered remains of their relationship. They have work to do.

Fletcher's suspicion of Birkhoff makes Nikita direct all of her attention to him. Even so, Michael is still grateful for the possibility to get away from her for even a short while when she presents him with the excuse he needs. She wants him to go get Alex out of the hands of the CIA, while the rest of them deal with Birkhoff and the double within the NSA.

He suspects this solution is convenient for her too. That she could do with a break from him just as much as he could. That makes him stop and consider everything that's happened for a moment, realising there's never been anybody that knows him like she does, loves him like she does. Unconditionally. Not even with Lizzie was it anything like that.

It's a thought that comforts him just as much as it disturbs him.

* * *

The solitary trip to Mumbai relaxes him considerably. While working with Sonya on finding Alex he realises the anger he's felt almost constantly for the last months has disappeared to the background for longer than just a few moments.

At least until Sam shows up.

Sam's an ass. An untrustworthy one at that. Michael prides himself on not letting himself be goaded into connecting his fist with the other man's face. Not even when he brings up Nikita taking off on him on impulse.

They find Alex, arriving just in time to prevent her from being transferred or worse. Alex's surprise at seeing Sam with him is written all over her face. Michael suggests Sam search the place for any and all intel they could use. Whatever form it comes in. He only complies when Alex asks him to as well.

* * *

"Are you okay?", he asks Alex as soon as they are alone.

"I'm fine, Michael. I think I should be asking you the same question", she tilts her head at him, studying him carefully. He feels a bit like a bug under a microscope when she looks at him the way she does, but to his surprise it doesn't annoy him like it did during those long months when Nikita was gone.

He purposely misunderstands her though when he replies with a tiny smile. "He's insufferable, but I'll live."

Alex sighs, "He's not that bad Michael, he did come and help you find me."

"After he ran out on you, you mean?"

Alex's head shoots up at this tidbit of info and she narrows her eyes. She lets it go though, effectively steering their conversation back to him.

"Hmm", she murmurs, "and while we're on the subject…" He glares at her in warning.

"… oh come on", she continues, "You hop from one continent to another for months, trying to pick up on her trail. You barely slept, or ate. You didn't talk to anybody anymore and you carried that damn ring in your pocket everywhere you went."

He's a little shocked she knows about the ring, "How did you…?" This time it's Alex's turn to glare and he gets her unspoken meaning: she's a spy too, she notices.

"Did you two talk?", she asks him. He only sighs, dropping his head just a fraction and he knows she has her answer.

"Michael?", he doesn't overtly acknowledge her, but that doesn't stop her from saying what she wants to say. "Maybe you should try opening yourself up to a different point of view. She left because she loves you, not in spite of it."

Her words strike a chord within him. A slight difference in perspective… But still, after everything…

"It doesn't matter anymore Alex."

From the look she gives him, he knows she can't believe he just said that.

"Never took you for a fool Michael", she very nearly spits at him. His eyes lock on hers and for a moment they just stare at each other. Then his phone rings. He lets out a deep breath and his gaze turns apologetic. He sees her eyes softening as well when he moves to slide his phone out of his pocket and then he's out the door, passing Sam in the hallway as he answers the call.

* * *

It's Ryan on the other side of the line informing him of how they fared on their end. His stomach knots when he hears about Nikita having to shoot the double in the end anyway. He feels deeply sorry for Birkhoff and worried for Nikita. It's yet another thing for her to have to come to terms with.

He feels the need to talk to her. Hear her voice. So he can judge for himself how she's doing, but before he's figured out how to ask, Ryan informs him they are on their way to them. To sit tight, they'll need to reconvene.

A short discussion on logistics later, Michael hands his phone to Alex per Ryan's request.

Sam's done searching the building and he decides to put Alex's advice to the test. He thanks Sam for his help. The reply he gets isn't very favourable to Alex's suggestion of opening himself up to another point of view though.

Sam's still an ass, an arrogant one. And Michael still doesn't trust him.


	4. Pay-Off

**Pay-Off**

They're going to Pakistan. The intel about the Pakistani men Alex shared with Ryan hasn't gotten them any new leads, but knowledge of the chatter gleaned from the CIA agent that held her combined with the ever rising tension between the US and Pakistan, provides them with all the sense of urgency they need to go there next.

Sam tells them about a strategic airfield they could use if they can afford it. Alex assures them they can afford it. She still has a little nest-egg stashed. It's decided then and there that Alex won't wait for the others to arrive, but will instead leave for Switzerland right away. Sam insists on accompanying her.

* * *

Michael meets the rest of the team alone on a pitiful airfield some ways out of Mumbai. It's Birkhoff he sees first when he gets on the plane. "Ryan told me what happened with the double. I'm sorry, buddy", he offers.

"Yeah." Birkhoff falls silent for a beat, "Thanks Mikey." After that Birkhoff casts down his gaze and disappears into the cockpit. As he follows the computer genius's retreat his eyes fall upon Nikita, stepping out of the shadows.

"Hi", she says almost timidly.

He watches her for several lengthy seconds then closes the distance between them. Their eyes meet and he hears Nikita taking a deep breath when he places his hand on her upper arm, "Are you okay?"

She blinks rapidly a few times, nods and then her breathy voice washes over him in a single worded reply, "Yeah."

"You?", she asks.

"Better", his answer is swift and he's somewhat surprised himself to realise it's the absolute truth. He does feel better than he has in a long time. Seeing Nikita's mouth turn up in a tremulous smile only adds to the feeling.

He doesn't know how long they stand there after that, gazes locked and his hand warm on her bare arm. What he does know, is that this is the moment when something seems to shift between them and he feels that maybe they can be friends again.

* * *

He's certain something's changed when the Shop 'salesman' offers her and the rest of the team a new life and she does not turn him down immediately. Instead she looks at him intently, silently asking him what he thinks, before bestowing the same courtesy upon Ryan and Birkhoff.

The fact that she only gives the 'salesman' her counter offer after she's gotten a reply from every one of them and that she looked to him for one first, is significant. At least the first part is, about the second part he has his doubts when she bypasses him and gives the tablet showing a video of a walking Ramon Esquivel to Ryan first.

He decides not to try and read so much into anything Nikita does or does not do. He can't help but feel frustrated at himself for over-analysing anything to do with her. It shouldn't even matter all that much to him, now that they are not together anymore and aren't going to be either. It's what he wanted. Right?

He's even more frustrated and on top of that shockingly surprised to find he isn't all that sure anymore.

That's not the only thing that throws him today though.

* * *

Ramon popping back on the radar after all these years presents him with a trip down memory lane when Nikita expresses her doubts about him aligning himself with the Shop. She reminds him Ramon's an idealist first, not a cold-blooded killer.

She takes him back to the day Amanda blew up Ramon's residence in Columbia and how she thought she lost him. How if it hadn't been for Ramon she would have lost him and herself too because she would have died trying to save him.

Two memories play out in his head consecutively.

First he remembers crawling out of the passageway and catching her in his arms on that grassy hill, surrounded by fire. She was sobbing, heart-broken and relieved at the same time, holding onto him so tightly he had trouble drawing a decent breath. He remembers that moment as if it were only yesterday. The feel of her tears, wet against his cheek. The feel of her in his arms, of being in hers, of how she didn't let go of him, couldn't stop touching him. The feeling of how, in that moment, he didn't want for anything else in the world than just her…

The second thing he remembers is how she was so willing to give up her life to save his not that long ago. The catalyst for them not being together now…

He pulls himself together and tells her everyone has a price, as much for her benefit as his own. He feels it seems like he's not the only one over-analysing things today.

* * *

When the both of them leave on a missile-hunt to prevent the US from going to war against Pakistan, Ramon himself provides him with a reality-check that in hindsight, he has to admit, was long overdue.

Ramon points out that he let Nikita pay the price for gaining back his severed limb. What Ramon can't know is that he let her do that several times over.

First by shutting her out until thanks to her, getting back his hand was a real possibility. Then by not even talking to her about it all after he'd actually gotten it back. And last by blaming her for wanting to protect him from ever being hurt at her hand again at any cost. Taking that as far as leaving him and the rest of the team to keep the spotlight on herself and as far away from them as possible.

 _Damn it all to hell._

Anger. It poisons the mind. He should know. After all, this isn't the first time it's happened to him. It's not even the first time Nikita bore the brunt of it either.

He can appreciate the irony that the insight that he let Nikita down as much, or actually more, as he felt she let him down, comes from the mercenary who literally saved his life before. That the same man quite possibly figuratively saved his life again today…

He feels like a weight has just been lifted from him, but he doesn't have a lot of time to think about this, because just a few seconds after he's riddled his truth-spouting adversary with bullets, Nikita's calling him.

* * *

For a few hours everything they've done up until now to stop World War III from breaking out seems to be in vain and then the puzzle pieces just sort of start falling into place.

Before he knows it, they have their target in sight and are on their way to Dubai. He wants to, but he doesn't manage to find a good moment to talk to Nikita while they're en route. The conversation they need to have is long overdue, but it seems it's going to have to wait a little while longer, even if things are fast becoming awkward between them again.

While they are waiting outside MDK's offices he cannot keep silent any longer when Nikita tells him he was right about Ramon. He grabs the opportunity to tell her something he should have appreciated from the get go.

He had her.

He may have had the same deal as Ramon, but that's where all similarities between them end because he had her.

He wouldn't even be alive today if it weren't for her. She saved his life by taking his hand and "I never got to thank you for that". She doesn't look at him as he delivers this last line and he curses himself for his choice of words.

Both of them have never really been any good at voicing an apology, but this, this one, he would have liked to have gotten right.

They get the signal Birkhoff's in position and the moment has passed him by. He asks her if she's ready. She turns to face him again. She doesn't speak. She can't. But from the emotions he watches playing out across her beautiful face he knows. She gets it. She gets what he meant. He knows.

* * *

Together with Birkhoff he frees the prisoners from their cells, while Nikita goes after Amanda. He feels humbled watching the reunion between Birkhoff and his father and annoyed and amused by the President at the same time as he has to listen to her guessing at their identity while supporting her out of her cell.

Their part of the mission, freeing the prisoners, goes off without a hitch. Unfortunately the same can't be said for Nikita's apprehension of Amanda. They have no way to abort the launch which Amanda's started anyway except for launching the cruise missile still under Birkhoff's control at their own position. Which is exactly what Nikita asks Birkhoff to do after she sets off the alarms throughout the building.

He has no way of knowing if she got out in time.

For the third time in his life he experiences the full-body paralysis that comes from believing an explosion takes the life of someone so very, very dear to him. It lasts a split second. Then determination sets in. He refuses to literally be brought to his knees as he is forced to watch the fire consume everything in its path. Instead he searches the rubble, calling out her name, hoping that against all odds she made it out in time anyway.

Thank god he finds her, lying so very still amidst the debris.

Thank god she has a pulse.

For the first time in a long time he holds her close, burying his face in her hair as he waits for medical assistance, praying to a god he's long since lost faith in for another day.

* * *

"Michael? Michael, we have to leave." He lifts his face to see Ryan crouched down in front of him. He sees Birkhoff standing next to a van a couple of yards away. He's ushering the liberated prisoners inside. His father is standing next to him, holding onto his laptop.

"Come on Michael, we need to go before the authorities arrive", Ryan implores him once more.

He spares Ryan a glance and then looks upon Nikita again.

"A doctor will be waiting at the safe house", Ryan promises him. "Come on", he says again. "The sooner we leave, the sooner we can get her checked out", then he asks, "Do you need help?"

"No", Michael says simply and shifts Nikita in his arms to cradle her against his chest as he lifts her up and walks ahead of Ryan to the waiting van.

* * *

He gets his another day.

Dawn has well and truly broken when the doctor declares her healthy apart from some scrapes, cuts, bruises and a concussion. There's no reason she shouldn't be waking up soon.

He thinks his relief at this news must be palpable judging from the indulgent smile the doctor sends his way.

Birkhoff and Ryan enter the living room where he's placed her on the couch for examination, just as the doctor is preparing to leave.

The other men have dropped off the ex-prisoners safely at the consulate and made sure Philip Jones was taken into custody before joining him and Nikita here, where they will all lay low for at least a couple of days so the intelligence packages they've sent out can be properly checked by the various receiving parties. As it turns out, this isn't such a bad thing as it will give Nikita the time she needs to recover enough from her injuries to travel. Alex will take care of their plane.

Birkhoff and Ryan's chorus of "How is she?" and "She'll be okay, right?" as they stumble inside, has the good doctor smiling indulgently once again and with an approving nod of Michael's head, he gives the other two his expert medical opinion.

They keep vigil over her as Michael thanks the doctor and sees him out. He secures the safe house and takes a moment to take a couple of deep breaths.

 _It's all over now._

It doesn't sink in.

He can't really get his head around the enormity of it.

* * *

When he returns to the living-room she's awake and sitting up. At the sound of his footsteps she turns away from Ryan and towards him.

As he sits down across from her, she reaches for him. He places his hands on her knees, staring at her bruised and bloodied face, anguish written all over it and knows his own must not look much different from hers.

"Is it over?", she asks him, fighting tears and he smiles a half-smile before he gets all choked up too. He can't reply. He just nods. And then she's in his arms. Holding onto him as tightly as she did that day, years ago in Columbia…

Her breathing is laboured, as if she's just run for miles. He lets out a sigh just before he presses his lips against her shoulder and has to close his eyes against the onslaught of emotions that washes over them both.

They're safe. They're together.

Her grip around his neck loosens and she leans back slightly. He rests his forehead against hers and cups her face. His lips tingle and he feels a flutter in his stomach as the need to kiss her becomes to great to hold off any longer.

It's tentative at first, but only for a second. It's been so long. But then their love takes over and it's just like it's always been.

Perfect. Sweet. Passionate. All at the same time.

It's like coming home and Michael knows there is no way he'll ever let her go again willingly.

* * *

Birkhoff and Ryan must have decided to grant them some privacy, because when their kiss slowly ends and he opens his eyes, they aren't there anymore.

A sob catches in Nikita's throat and he hooks his arm underneath her legs and lifts her onto his lap, enveloping her in his arms again while he leans back into the cushions. They sit there for a long time, silently holding onto each other, Nikita's face buried in his neck, his in her hair, just breathing each other in.

He thinks to himself he doesn't need anything else as long as he gets to hold her close like this, but Nikita is fading fast right there in his arms. He debates with himself on whether or not to get her to eat something first or just get her to bed.

She makes it easy for him when he notices her body going slack against his and her breathing evening out. Bed it is then.

She wakes when he's taking off her shoes, asking him not to leave her. So he stays, covering her with an afghan and taking up a seat next to the bed, watching over her while she sleeps and waking her every couple of hours like the doctor told him to.

* * *

Nikita sleeps well into the afternoon. He draws her a bath, has a quick shower himself and fixes all four of them a decent meal that's ready when she gets out. She's feeling pretty good considering and enjoys the company of her friends while they all eat together for a change.

If the smiles on Birkhoff's and Ryan's faces are an indicator of what his own face looks like at having her back amongst them without the continued stress they've all been living under, he figures he must be grinning like an idiot.

When eventually their shared meal is nothing but a few cold left-overs, he thinks he'd like to be alone with her again and finally finish that conversation that they need to have. There's so much he wants to say to her. But he can't bring himself to separate her from the other men in her life, seeing how happy she looks to just be with them, joking around and relaxing.

They share a bottle of wine, toasting their success. Nikita only has a few sips, considering the concussion she has. After that Birkhoff goes to find his laptop to send a message to Sonya and Ryan leaves them to go do whatever it is he's off to do.

They sit next to each other in silence. He's sipping the last of the wine and Nikita is nursing a glass of water. They steal a glance at each other from time to time, but neither of them really knows what to say. Somehow it's awkward between them again and apart from having that talk they need to have, he doesn't know how to fix it and it's too late in the evening to start that specific conversation now.

When he suggests she get some rest after she hasn't been able to stifle a yawn, she asks him to stay with her again. He will. Despite their relative uneasiness around each other, there's no place he'd rather be.

* * *

Nikita's climbed into bed and is propped up against the headboard when he settles himself in his chair again. She frowns at him. "You know…", she starts, "…this bed is big enough for two, you can just lay down here, if you want to." She pats the sheets next to her, unsuccessfully trying to hide the feeling of insecurity that's come over her.

He smiles at her in what he believes is a reassuring way and then answers her carefully, "Not yet."

She avoids his gaze as she tugs up the covers to her neck, hiding herself underneath them and mutters, "Your funeral."

He sighs, "It's not that I don't want to Nikita." She looks at him again, doe-eyes shining. "It's just…, we should talk first. I don't want us making the same mistakes again."

Now it's her turn to sigh and she closes her eyes briefly. When she opens them again, he sees determination in them and he hears her ask, "Will you at least kiss me then?"

They haven't kissed since that first time this morning and he can't help the smile that pulls at the corners of his mouth. "Thought you'd never ask", he whispers before he's out of his chair and she's in his arms as his lips claim hers.

* * *

The night passes much the same as the previous morning did. He dutifully wakes Nikita every few hours, asking her the necessary questions before letting her get back to sleep again. The downside to this is that while she goes back to sleep easily, he does not. At dawn she looks fairly rested and he's absolutely exhausted.

He lets her convince him to take her place in the bed and he tells her to wake him in four hours expecting to sleep for three at the most, since that has been his habit for quite some time now.

She lets him sleep for five, then she wakes him with coffee and a Danish. He can't remember when he's felt this rested in a long time and doesn't realise that lying beneath sheets that carry her scent might have something to do with that until much later.

They have their long awaited conversation after he finishes his Danish and gets dressed. They lock themselves in the bedroom for the duration of it and luckily neither Birkhoff nor Ryan thinks about disturbing them.

Michael apologises again, the way he wants to this time. Nikita does too and then they get down to the nitty-gritty, finally really talking about more than a few things they should have discussed a long time ago and about why they didn't at the time.

It's unpleasant to hear sometimes.

Neither one of them is just innocent, guilty, perpetrator or victim in this story. Still, they take care not to accuse each other of anything.

Tears flow anyway.

By the end of the afternoon both of them are feeling drained but they have reached a new understanding.

The way they've handled difficulties in the past wasn't good enough. They never really hashed things out with each other and they didn't listen to each other well enough either. They'll need to make it their number one priority not to make these mistakes again. They'll call each other on it if that threatens to happen anyway, as they both very well know it undoubtedly will.

No more acting first and sort of talking about it later. No more running. No more hiding. Seeing as these are the things they do instinctively, this will be the hardest part.

But what's most important is that they still love each other more than anything, that they've both missed 'them' to the point of madness and that there's nothing either one of them wants more than to try again. So they will.

They seal the deal with their third kiss and find peace in each other's embrace until Birkhoff tentatively informs them from behind their closed door that dinner is ready if they're hungry.

* * *

The four of them share a meal like they did last night. Birkhoff dares asking them if they've managed to figure things out. "We did", Michael tells him while reaching for Nikita's hand underneath the table and another bottle of wine is opened to celebrate and share like the night before.

He can see Nikita is done for the day, just as Ryan drops that news reports from all over the world are mentioning Kathleen Spencer is alive. Nikita's head shoots up at this news and she winces, her eyes scrunching shut. Michael reaches out to her, placing a hand on her back in silent comfort. He notices Birkhoff casting a worried look her way and then he hears him say Sonya will be arriving in a couple of hours. That together with Ryan they'll sort through all the information available and then they can all work on a game plan, tomorrow. "Go get some sleep Nikki", he adds.

Birkhoff's words hit their target, but it's not him she locks eyes with. He can plainly see she's torn between giving into her body's need for rest and wanting to work with them. _There'll never be a time when she'll be completely comfortable relinquishing control_ , Michael thinks. He takes her hand though and simply says, "Come on. Tomorrow's another day."

She gives in easily, a sure sign she's still not feeling well. He means to get back to the others and get himself up to speed on what they know, but when he kisses her goodnight and she doesn't let go of his hand he changes his mind in a second.

He needs her just as much as she needs him.

So he strips down to his underwear and gets into bed with her, answering her sigh with a relieved one of his own as she curls into his side and they have themselves another first since their separation: the one of falling asleep wrapped in each other's arms.

* * *

He's not really surprised the next day to find that Sonya has inadvertently led US Marines to their doorstep, just miffed that they won't be able to control what happens next. Even though they're not being physically restrained and are given the opportunity to gather their meagre belongings, the orders they receive to come quickly and quietly leave him and the rest of the team feeling ill at ease. He spares a thought for Alex and is grateful she's still in Europe.

They're loaded onto the USS Eisenhower and don't see anyone until one colonel Slocum comes in and tells them they'll be returned to US soil later today. The camera-light blinking in the corner of the room they're being held in prevents them from speaking about anything to each other. Later on, on the military plane, it's much the same.

Roughly eighteen hours after they were picked up in Dubai, they arrive at Norfolk Marine Corps base in Virginia and Michael finds himself relieved that even though they are in custody they aren't treated as hostiles when they are shown the houses they will be staying in for the time being.


	5. Bubble

**Bubble**

Setting foot on a US military base is somewhat strange after all these years. He'd never thought he would again after he'd taken Percy up on his offer of joining Division.

He woke up early this morning after a restless night in which Nikita tossed and turned, and took his second cup of coffee outside. He watched the cul-de-sac their houses are on slowly come to life. People leaving for work, children coming outside to play before they need to go to school. It's the picture of normalcy, which also feels rather strange after so many years.

A good kind of strange.

As far as he can tell, he's the only one of their team that's up yet. Maybe the rest of them were as restless as Nikita was last night. Out of sorts. Not quite able to get their head around what's happening to them. Though he suspects Ryan would be less affected, like himself. Since both of them come from government, were part of it once.

His thoughts are interrupted when he sees Nikita walking towards the edge of the lawn and like a compass pointing true north, he's drawn to her.

She's standing with her back towards him and doesn't see him at first. She startles a little when he speaks to her and he tries to reassure her with both touch and words.

Just before they are joined by Ryan, Birkhoff and Sonya, he feels the need to add, "No matter how this ends, no matter what happens, Amanda's dead and we won." He can tell from the way she reacts though, that this doesn't put an end to what worries her.

* * *

Nikita's in a whirl on figuring out what they should do, what to tell and what not to tell when it's announced they will be picked up soon to give their statements. He follows her over to Birkhoff and Sonya's, announcing she needs to get on the internet. Birkhoff tells her he got Ryan online and she storms out immediately.

He doesn't follow her to Ryan's, he knows it's no use. They won't be able to fabricate a cover story in the little time they have left. He doesn't try and stop her either, knowing that would be pointless as well. She needs to come to that conclusion on her own.

Birkhoff shoots him a concerned glance. They're stuck. No moves left, really. But Michael also knows he's not the person to suggest they simply tell the truth, it wouldn't be accepted coming from him. So he stays silent and waits.

He doesn't have to wait long. Military transport arrives in a matter of minutes. They meet Ryan and Nikita in front of his house and he's only mildly surprised to hear Nikita confidently say to Birkhoff they should tell them everything. Still, not knowing how their tale is going to be received worries him too and he can't prevent a frown from furrowing his brow.

* * *

They are separated again. He has no clue how the others are faring or how much time has passed before they finally call him in for his interview.

He tells them everything there is to tell.

Starting from the moment he met Percy at his bedside. How he climbed quickly through the ranks of Division. How he went from being mentor to several recruits to becoming head of training, to right hand man. How Division lost its way, how he partook in sanctioned kills. The everlasting fight against Gogol. Nikita's escape. Nikita's personal mission against Division. Him joining her. Their team growing. Their fight ever changing as they uncovered layer after layer…

They only have a few questions left to ask him when he's done. He answers them dutifully and then there's silence.

* * *

It's late in the evening when they are returned to the base. They briefly discuss amongst themselves what it is they would want from the government, but not what the government might want in return.

In the privacy of their own temporary home, Nikita's no longer able to curb her agitation and she paces all along the ground floor. Eventually he's done watching her working herself up and follows her into the kitchen. He crosses his arms in front of him and schools his features into a look of patient expectance. He doesn't have to wait long for Nikita to open up to him.

"Chappell wants me to testify in front of a Senate hearing committee. They, they need a hero…" Her eyes shift upwards and her hands are restless in the pockets of her sweat-vest, as if she doesn't quite believe the words coming out of her own mouth, "To, to help heal the country", she blurts.

 _That's not all of it_ , he's sure. "Since when have you been afraid of a few Congressmen?"

She sighs, "It's not them. It… It's everybody. Everybody will know who I am."

 _Oh Nikita._ He tries reasoning with her as he follows her into the living room, everyone already knows who she is.

They made a deal a few days ago, they would talk about everything and Nikita is the first to honour it, telling him about all her doubts and insecurities that he hasn't been able to take away over the years. She still doesn't recognise her own worth. She still has this broken image of herself that she's nothing more than the addicted street-waif she once was.

 _How in the world can you still not know you're so much more than the lost girl that became a convicted felon for Division to pluck from death row and exploit,_ he wonders silently.

His heart aches when he slowly approaches her, "I wish you could see yourself the way I do." He turns her around to look at herself in the mirror while he reminds her of all the people she saved, including him, too many times to count. She has trouble facing herself, but the quiet comfort he offers with his body angled toward hers, his open hand subtly spanning her shoulder, make her look anyway. Still, she has trouble believing and she shakes off his touch as she turns around.

He's not going to be deterred though. This is too important and he loves her too much to let this go on. She needs to realise…

Michael catches her gaze and tries to impress upon her again what an amazing woman she really is. His voice is low and he can tell she's listening even if she doesn't maintain eye-contact.

"Look. I promise you. Once you tell them your side of the story, everyone will see you the way that I do. "

Her eyes shine a little brighter as she takes in his words. "But just don't forget…", he adds, "…they are the ones who need you."

He sees the wheels spinning behind her eyes. "That's right", she says, then touches a hand over his chest and for a second he thinks she's just going to leave him standing there as she walks away.

 _What just happened?_ He can't help but think, but then her voice reaches him, "I'm going to make a deal with Senator Chappell. I'll be back as soon as."

He lets her go, she needs to do this on her own.

* * *

She doesn't return until well after midnight, terribly agitated once again. Telling him about Ryan and his request to see Jones. About his whole new 'wall of crazy'. It worries him, but he's worried for her more.

"How's your head?", he patiently asks.

For a second she looks at him as though he's grown another, then remembers the concussion she suffered, "It's fine, Michael."

She frowns when he makes her sit down and pours her a glass of wine. "You need to calm down", he says.

If Ryan's on to something, which he sincerely hopes not, there is nothing they can do about it right now. She deflates but doesn't completely relax until he manages to distract her by telling her about his life when he lived on a base kind of like this one.

She scoots a little closer to him on the couch until she's nestled into his side and he wraps an arm around her. She plays with the fingers of his other hand, softly stroking and caressing them while she listens to him recounting memories of long ago.

Later when they're in bed, she lies awake for a long time and because of her restless movement, so does he.

"I'm sorry", she whispers, knowing she's keeping him up too.

He sighs, gently kisses her forehead and tells her to turn over. She shoots him a questioning look, but does as he tells her anyway. Michael wraps his body around hers, his front pressed tightly to her back and one arm wrapped around her, fingers intertwining with hers while he presses his lips to the nape of her neck.

She sighs and squeezes his hand a little. Their breathing gradually synchronises and soon after they both fall asleep.

* * *

When he wakes the next morning, he's still holding her in the same protective cocoon. Her skin is warm against his, their feet have tangled in the sheets and his hand is wrapped in both of hers, held securely against her chest. Her long, dark hair tickles his cheek, getting caught in his stubble as he buries his nose in it.

It feels right, having her in his arms, their bodies fitting together perfectly.

It's so much more intimate than anything they've shared in a long time and Michael savours the feeling. He can't recall why he ever thought he didn't want this anymore, that this wasn't worth fighting for.

* * *

He watches Nikita's congressional committee hearing on television together with Birkhoff, Sonya and Ryan. She does well, as he knew she would. Her voice is clear after she faltered a bit at first and her testimony is precise and to the point. When it's done, he can't wait for her to return home.

They're free.

They can finally start their life together.

He can't wait.

* * *

He greets her at the door. Pulling her into his arms, a wide smile stretches his mouth. "You were wonderful", he whispers.

She smiles right back at him, cupping his face in her hands and then she kisses him. Slowly and sweetly. They are interrupted by Birkhoff and Sonya who in turn, hug her tight and compliment her too. Ryan's up last. His smile is slightly forced, disappearing completely when he hugs Nikita too, only to return when he lets her go. Michael knows what causes this, but can't bring himself to give it much thought. Today is the first day of the rest of their lives after all. He doesn't want anything overshadowing that.

They have a little celebration, one that is broken up when Ryan leaves for his temporary home after only a short while. It doesn't matter, they'll be having a real celebration once Alex is with them too.

Since Birkhoff and Sonya seem to be having a hard time keeping their hands off each other, Michael thinks they won't mind so much if he steals Nikita away from them to be alone with her.

They walk across the lawn separating their home from the others hand in hand, grinning like a couple of kids caught outside in the twilight. He brings their joined hands up to his lips to kiss her knuckles.

When they're in front of their door she tells him she wants to call Alex and tell her it's safe to come back. He senses she wants a moment to talk to her former protégée and partner in crime alone, which he can well understand and is happy to give her.

They have all the time in the world now to be together.

* * *

Nikita comes looking for him in the kitchen when she's done, a content little smile gracing her lips and phone still in hand. He can't help but smile back. She's so lovely looking like she does and she doesn't even know it. He's about to ask her if she'd like some coffee too, when the phone starts ringing.

She rolls her eyes and he just smiles at her, _Alex must be in need of a little more girl talk._ He grabs his coffee and the evening paper and takes them with him into the living room. Giving her another moment of privacy to answer the call.

He'll wait a little longer.

* * *

He catches the last of Nikita's phone conversation as she walks into the room. The article he was reading forgotten as he instantly makes out she wasn't speaking to Alex. This is the voice she uses when she's talking to someone with authority, with power. He knows she'll recognise the question in his eyes.

"That was Senator Chappell", she says.

"Is everything okay?", he asks her and watches the expression on her face turn into something between happy and amazed at the same time.

She scrunches her eyes a little, as though she can't believe the words she says next herself, "They want to give me the Presidential Medal of Freedom."

He flips up the newspaper, pretending to get back to his article as he bites back a smug smile, "So you're saying I was right?"

She's almost childlike in the way she stands there in the middle of the room. A smile tugging at the corners of her beautiful mouth, swaying a little on the spot and fidgeting with her hair as she elaborates, "They did a poll. An approval poll. T-to see how the news was landing… and apparently… I tested through the roof."

He doesn't even try to keep the smile from breaking through this time, he's so proud of her.

"So now they want to capitalise off the residual goodwill of course", she adds, a mix of sarcasm and modest shyness plainly visible in her features as she momentarily closes her eyes.

He doesn't let her put herself down though, "Hey, don't downplay this. They love you."

Lifting his feet from the coffee table and putting the paper on the seat next to him, he gets up. Taking the few steps it takes to stand directly in front of her, he crosses his arms and adds playfully, "And far more importantly: I was right."

"No", she says simply to which he raises his eyebrows.

"You were wrong." At that he mock-frowns at her.

"You once accused me of only wanting another mission." He clearly remembers when too, but there's no trace of recrimination in her voice. She simply takes his wrists in her hands as playfulness transforms her face as well and he's just thoroughly enjoying them bantering with each other for the first time in what feels like forever.

He's missed this. Missed her. So much.

He's not turning melancholy though, because smiling widely, she slaps his hands lightly against his buttocks as she walks him backwards and continues, "No more missions, no more looking over our shoulders…"

At this last bit, he plays along with her, purposely gazing over his shoulder towards the couch. He smiles too as she breathes her next words over his lips, "… and all I want, is you." They're both laughing a little as he takes her with him, letting himself fall back into the couch-cushions. And then he's kissing her, because there's nothing else he can or wants to do more.

* * *

Their kisses go from playful to sensual in a matter of minutes. Nikita's hands are holding his face, angling it a little for better access and his hands roam over her back and sides while their kisses ever deepen.

Pretty soon their little make-out session escalates into something much more and he finds his shirt pushed up to his ribs while Nikita's wrap-around blouse has come completely undone. Nimble fingers are tracing up his chest while his follow the lacy edge of her bra over the curve of her breast. Both their breathing is becoming increasingly unsteady and Michael has to break their kiss.

"Not here", he hears himself say in a husky tone. He wants them to be in a bed when they make love again.

Nikita's face is flushed. She nods, agreeing with him. He sees her licking her lips as she moves back a little. He has to swallow hard at that. Then she sits up, takes his hand and pulls him up with her, their fingers intertwining. She trails only slightly behind him as he leads her up the stairs, the fingers of her free hand tucked into the back pocket of his jeans.

"Michael?", he hears her call just as they enter their bedroom. He turns to face her. "Will you come with me?", she asks.

He doesn't comprehend right away so she elaborates, "To Washington? For the medal ceremony? It's tomorrow."

He feels a smile transforming his face again. "Yes", he says simply as he cups her face. "Yes", he breathes over her lips that are curling into a smile as well. They bridge the last inch separating them simultaneously, their kiss a luscious meeting of lips and tongues.

Not long after, their clothing is a thing of the past and they are reacquainting themselves with soft skin, taut muscles and the joy of feeling the warmth of the other all against themselves with nothing in between.

Fingers raise goosebumps as they stroke, rediscovering sensitive spots to touch, to taste, to love. Their limbs tangle as they roll and soon there's no telling anymore where one begins and the other ends.

When they finally join their bodies, becoming one again after so long, neither one of them can move for the longest while. Overwhelmed at the incredible rightness of their connection, their eyes lock and their lips meet and Michael knows, more now than ever before, that there will never be anyone else but her.

Eventually, there's nothing but the sound of flesh moving against flesh accompanied by tender sighs and low moans to fill the silence of the sultry evening air as they make love unhurriedly. Kissing, caressing, climbing higher and higher, they savour every single moment, treasuring it all like never before.

Their intimate reunion is full of love, and heat, and it's oh so sweet. Michael can barely stand to have it end. It does inevitably, when their desire crests and they tumble over the edge just a few seconds apart as they find release.

They cling to each other in the aftermath, catching their breaths, still touching and kissing until finally, sleep claims them both.

* * *

In the morning they have a repeat of last night, leisurely making love for a second time.

He watches the early morning light casting a golden glow over her smooth skin as he hovers over her and is mesmerised by how beautiful she is once again. He can't get enough of her. Her scent, her taste, how she responds to him, the little sounds she makes, the way she touches him, the feel of her body clenching around his and the look on her face as he brings her ecstasy.

Afterwards they bask in the afterglow and talk about what their future might hold. Their conversation starts out a bit tentatively, but as they talk about all they could choose to do now that they're free and playfulness enters their conversation again, Michael notices she's more lighthearted than he can remember her being for a long, long time.

They could finally get that little house on a beach, the one they've fantasised about so much over the past years. Nikita asks him to promise her they'll live a boring life and makes him think about what he'd like to do with his time. He doesn't want to go back to the navy, he'd rather teach. Next to her, this discovery is the only good thing Division ever brought him.

In hindsight it will feel like they are building themselves a nice little castle in the sky this lovely morning. One that crashes down around them when Nikita answers the phone and whatever it is that the person on the other side of the line is saying to her, steals the light out of her eyes and robs the smile from her lips. All of their happy planning and dreaming comes to a screeching halt.

* * *

He can't have been more than a few minutes behind her, but when he finds her she's pressed against the glass door to the emergency room, shoulders shaking. He calls her name, but she doesn't acknowledge him and looking over her shoulder into the room he sees why. There's a crash cart next to a bed a nearly unrecognisable Ryan is lying on and a team of doctors is working to get his heart to start beating again. There's blood everywhere.

 _No_ , he thinks. _No…_

 _What the hell happened?_

He reaches out, laying his hand over Nikita's shoulder and she looks at him briefly before turning her head towards Ryan again. Michael's hand drops to her back and he pulls her to his chest, trapping her arms between their bodies as he hugs her to him and together they watch for a long time as the doctors do everything in their power but are unable to save Ryan's life.

Even after he's gone Nikita can't manage to tear her eyes away. She's silently weeping, tears streaming in a steady flow down her cheeks, her fingers clawing at the front of his shirt. Michael presses his eyes closed in an attempt to keep his own grief at bay and kisses the top of her head repeatedly while he holds on to her a little tighter.

* * *

"It's not over", she tells him later when she's calmed down somewhat. He's pretty sure he must have misunderstood her, but when he asks her to clarify what she meant and she tells him, "Not here", a cold feeling of dread comes over him.

Later he learns Amanda is alive. Ryan escaped her. Jones is part of a group that counts seven other members. There are more doubles. Colonel Slocum is one of them. Ryan's told her all this seconds before his heart stopped.

She looks at him intently after she's delivered the news. It's perfectly clear to him that right now she has no idea what to do, her grief rendering her unable to focus.

Given everything that's passed the last few days there's only one option he can think of. They need to get this intel to Senator Chappell. And he's in Washington.

* * *

Nikita's grief has given way to anger.

Michael knows what happens when anger takes control.

They tell Chappell all they know. Together with the Senator he manages to get her to keep up appearances for now and accept the medal she doesn't want because it's being given to her on the premise of a lie. "We have to be smart in how we play this", he tells her and then promises her they'll get Amanda too.

As he watches the medal being hung around her neck from where he's standing in the corridor, he knows she will never be able to go along with the course of action the Senator's outlined. She has no reason to trust the system.

* * *

"You're leaving", he says when they are finally alone together. It's not a question, simply a statement of fact.

Tears well in her eyes. "I have to", she chokes out the words.

He knows. He gathers her in his arms and holds her while he takes a minute to come to terms with it. Then they roughly formulate a plan to draw out Amanda and the other group members. She'll run point with Alex, he'll be back-up with the rest of their team. It's not what he wants, it's not anything he could ever be comfortable with, but it's the only way this will work and he can't ask her to sit by and do nothing.

"Come back", he says as they prepare to say goodbye, his tone low. He rests his forehead against hers, his hands cupping her face and hers come up to close over his arms. He watches as her eyes start to shimmer with fresh tears and it takes him an incredible amount of effort to keep his own sadness from drowning him. "I love you", he adds.

"I love you too", she whispers hoarsely before kissing him one last time.

* * *

Birkhoff has his version of a meltdown when Michael tells him and Sonya Ryan has died and that Amanda's alive. This, combined with Sonya's emotional outburst of worry for the woman he loves more than anything in the world, cuts through Michael like the sharpest blade.

He has to stay focussed. Everything that happens next hinges on their ability to sell the story, so he only tells them what they need to know now and decides to tell them the rest later.

Then there's nothing more to do but wait for Nikita's signal.

He knows she's made a break for it, when soldiers are being stationed at the front door. She's attacked her army escorts.

Not long after that Sam shows up. The message he has for them is Nikita's signal to Michael they are a go.

And so it begins.


	6. Canceled

_**A/N:** Changing the rating of the story to M for this chapter. Don't read if you shouldn't._

* * *

 **Canceled**

They will put on the show of their lifetime.

The plan is relatively simple. They have no way of knowing who all the doubles are. They do know there's a list. They need that list or it will never be over.

If they have the list, they can finally dispose of Amanda for good. In some way it's like the hunt for the black boxes all over again.

There's only one way they will get to Amanda in the end. Nikita and Alex will set up their attack of the group's members to make it seem as if Nikita has lost her way. To anyone watching it will seem she has become the wild animal she once was, while Michael and the rest make sure Slocum is her audience and by extension, Amanda.

An elaborate but at the same time simple scheme to lure her in.

As a group they decide to spread their resources by stationing Sonya in London. If anything is to go wrong on the men's side of the mission, she'll be able to provide tactical and technical support to Nikita and Alex. She'll be back-up to their back-up.

They manage to get her off the base and on a plane on the premise of her going to look for Nikita through Shadownet, she may be the only one in their group who is not perceived a threat and hers is presumed the weakest connection to Nikita.

The three men hole up in Ryan's house. Deciphering his wall of crazy, looking for possible missed clues while they wait for their mission to start.

* * *

They set the stage when soon after news-channels start reporting the explosion of the convoy transporting Philip Jones, Ed Chappell is standing in their living room demanding an explanation.

Michael sells it when he starts talking about the dark side to Nikita, the one only he and one other person alive have witnessed first-hand and lived to tell about.

He gets them their ticket off the base, while Birkhoff's and Sam's comments have ensured they will get a tail.

The right one.

* * *

Their tail finds them as they're boarding their plane. Colonel Slocum, or at least his double, has brought reinforcements too.

They cement their cover easily, but something doesn't sit well with Michael. He doesn't like not being able to touch base with Nikita. He has no way of knowing if she's okay, now that she and Alex have already managed to take half of the group's members out of play.

He can't shake the feeling of impending doom just being around the corner no matter how he looks at it or where he turns. He's lost in thought and absentmindedly scanning the plane when his eyes fall on the bag containing his gear. He can't believe he's forgotten all about it for the last couple of weeks.

Rummaging through it, he finds what he's looking for easily when the looped ribbon that closes it, catches on his little finger.

A little black velour bag.

He takes out the ring and stuffs it into his left front pocket without anyone noticing. It's something tangible. He'll carry it with him like some sort of good luck charm, as a reminder of the future they're supposed to have. Together. He wants that ring back on her third finger again. It's where it belongs.

* * *

Memories of the two of them crouching over a deep, dark hole in a field in New Jersey assault him when the next thing that happens makes him realise the more things change, the more they stay the same.

He loves her, but she still scares the crap out of him.

Trevor Adrian has called a meeting and Nikita has diverted from the original plan of picking off the group members one by one by taking him and his colleagues hostage.

She's very good at flying by the seat of her pants, thrives on it even. Him? Not so much. He still likes to have at least something that resembles a plan to stick too, especially when so much is at stake. Nikita's just unilaterally blown that out of the water.

He still hates it when she does that.

There is no way they will be able to keep a hostage situation under wraps for long. He knows there is only one reason for her to have taken this path. Anger. She's letting herself be driven by anger. No one knows better than him how much this can cost you, without you even being consciously aware of it.

Besides the obvious worry this causes him, he also really doesn't like it that it's Amanda who informs them of Nikita's deviation off the original plan.

His anxiety is real.

Amanda has gotten to him with her little speech about Nikita being in danger of losing her soul. Because she is, if her anger has gotten the best of her.

* * *

The phone conversation he has with her, doesn't reassure him. He can hear from the tone of her voice that she's on edge.

The fact that Slocum's double has sicked the Marines on her, makes it even worse, it turns this mission much more complex and dangerous than it already was.

She hangs up on him.

He briefly touches his hand over the place where her engagement ring rests. At least he's been able to let her know Amanda's watching... At least that part of the plan is working out the way it should.

* * *

He calls her again when they arrive at the temporary military command centre in front of Adrian's compound. They put on their act, at least he hopes it's still an act. There's something in the way she talks to him, in the tone of her voice.

She's agitated and he knows she's balancing on a razor-sharp edge. He also knows that because of her grief she's in danger of falling.

The anger behind her words, makes him fear it's too late already, that she really has lost her way. That there's nothing on her mind anymore except that there needs to come an end to all this horror at any cost. For Ryan.

When she mentions releasing the list, a feeling of panic rises and his faith in her wavers even more seriously than before. If she does that, there's no hope. He won't be able to protect her, nobody will be.

She hangs up on him a second time.

 _Damn it._ The memory of their goodbye plays out in his mind. She only told him she loved him, she didn't say she'd come back…

He does some quick thinking and puts Birkhoff to work. Telling him he needs to drop down a jamming field. If Nikita's really crossed to the dark side, it will protect her and buy him some time. If she's still with him, which he cannot help but doubt, it'll strengthen their ruse for Amanda even further.

Birkhoff needs to hurry, Slocum's got snipers ready to take her out.

* * *

It works. Almost as soon as the jamming field is activated, she's calling. He tells Sam to keep her on the line. Time for plan B.

He needs someone ready to step in and protect Nikita from herself if necessary. Although he's not really thinking 'if' anymore, but something more along the lines of 'when'. He's pretty sure he's getting through to Alex. She's the only one who will be able to stop her.

Before he can be sure Alex is on board, Sam demands his attention. Nikita's going to shoot the remaining members of the group. He doesn't think then, he just acts.

"Nikita, if you start shooting, the Marines will attack."

"Then it's your job to make sure I don't die in vain, isn't it?"

 _No._ She's risking it all. For a split second he's transported back in time to when their roles were reversed.

"Nikita, please!", his voice breaks as he remembers himself standing over a sink in an airport bathroom, glass shiv in hand and her voice in his ear, telling him he did have something to live for: he had her. He didn't listen. He can only vehemently hope that she will.

He can't lose her, he loves her too much. He has to fight a sob that threatens to close off his throat. When he manages to get the words out, his voice is surprisingly clear.

"I have nothing left. If you die…, I die."

She listens and agrees to do it his way. He breathes a sigh of relief and, for just a few minutes, allows himself to believe they've weathered the storm, that everything will be alright.

Until Birkhoff decides to go off on a tangent and hijacks the file. He tells Nikita where he's sent it and how to access it.

When he asks him why, Birkhoff points out to him that there are still "too many secrets, too many lies."

 _Amanda_. Birkhoff's got her number, the final trap is set.

* * *

Michael watches Sam deck Slocum's double, knocking him out. Birkhoff quickly tells him and Sam he has control of Adrian's computer. Nikita gave it to him, he's also sent her a message. He knows where the 'originals' are kept and how far Amanda's reach really goes.

The sound of bullets being fired rings hollow in his ears. They're going to have to let this play out. They are banking on Amanda not being able to resist coming out of the shadows if Nikita is captured, if she thinks she's finally won.

So when Slocum, or at least the man that's going around pretending to be him, starts to come round, they don't interfere and let him command his troops to raid Adrian's compound.

* * *

His heart is in his throat and his stomach in knots. He and Sam aren't arrested, Birkhoff is. He has no idea how Nikita and Alex are.

He feels strangely out of the loop, bypassed. Has felt like this since Birkhoff took it upon himself to lay the final trap. It's brilliant really, he can see that from miles away. The perceived discord amongst their team. Nikita seemingly having thrown off every last bit of restraint and resorting to brutality, like she did when she was a new recruit.

But he has his doubts too. This risk they are taking is huge. Too big for him to ever be okay with, which is why they bypassed him. He knows that too. It should be something that pisses him off beyond belief, but worry and anxiety prevent that from happening and rationality tells him this is the only chance they have of finally ending it all.

Rationality doesn't win out over distress though. His mind is full with the thought he might lose her still. They might lose everything. All of them could lose everything.

* * *

Sam and he are speeding along the highway on their way to free the 'originals', when Sam mentions they kind of put Nikita in a bad spot. _That's putting it mildly_ , Michael thinks and at the same time he's thinking that he tried so hard to keep her out of it. To no avail.

They had control of Adrian's laptop, they could have found another way. It didn't have to be like this. His thoughts spur his answer, "She knew what she was getting into…" While deep down he knows, there was no other way, she didn't have a choice.

The only way to beat Amanda at her own game is subterfuge. Subterfuge of the highest and most dangerous level.

His heart has been pounding ever since they left for this part of the mission. He can't wait for it to be over. He needs to know what happened to her. He needs to know if there is anything he could still do to get her back to him safely instead of being here in a car with Sam.

When it's finally all over and they are on their way back Sam shows him a text from Birkhoff. It worked. They got her. And they'll meet them back at the base.

It's almost anti-climactic, but still Michael has to pull over in order to catch his breath. He steps out of the car and feels clean, fresh air filling his lungs. He savours it for a minute then gets behind the wheel again. Sam looks at him questionably, "Should you be driving?"

Michael doesn't answer him, he just presses his foot a little firmer to the gas-pedal.

* * *

It's late when he returns to the base in Norfolk with Sam in tow. Or rather very early. They walk onto the cul-de-sac and he sees Alex sitting on the porch's steps, a glass of juice in her hand. She lifts her face up when she hears their footsteps, a quiet rustle through the lawn's wet grass.

"She's inside", she says in a weary voice while looking at him.

He manages a nod in thanks and steps passed her.

The metal of the doorknob is cold against his fingers as he slowly turns it and he feels strangely calm despite all the different emotions that whirl inside of him.

He sees her as soon as he steps into the foyer. She's hunched over the kitchen counter, a half finished glass of wine in front of her. She seems to have sensed him coming in because she straightens and turns towards him, gliding off her stool in one fluid motion.

For a moment they just stand there, staring at each from across the room. Until Nikita breaks the spell they both seem to be under and makes the first move towards him.

A few seconds later she's in his arms as he meets her halfway. His fingers tracing over her face, committing her beloved features to memory.

She kisses him. A tender press of her lips to his as he feels her fingers slide into his hair at the nape of his neck. It provides him with the exact kind of comfort he's longed for. He tilts his head a little and then he's kissing her right back, begging entrance, which she grants without a moment's hesitation.

He almost lost her today.

The memories of everything that's happened in the past twenty-four hours assault him and he kisses her harder. So very, very glad she's here, that she's with him, in his arms, that he won't be forced to live without her. Because the words he spoke to her with everyone listening in are true: he wouldn't survive it.

* * *

Her slender fingers brush across his cheeks and it is then that he realises she's wiping away tears. She's looking at him, her heart in her eyes and he explains in a hoarse whisper, trying not to choke on the words, "You didn't say you'd come back".

He sees her squeezing her eyes shut against the tears that have welled there at his admission before he closes his own and feels one of her hands sliding into his hair again as the other caresses his jaw while she catches his lips with hers in a bruising kiss. When she releases him and he opens his eyes to look into hers, he notices her cheeks are wet too. She presses her forehead to his, maintaining eye contact and he holds her tighter as she softly speaks the words he didn't even know he needed to hear.

"Michael, please don't ever forget…", she pauses to brush his lips with hers again and her voice seems to gain some strength, "if at all possible, I'll always come back to you."

His breath gets caught in his throat, he tries to speak, but no sound will come. A strangled hiccup breaks free as he nods shakily and fresh tears roll over her beloved face as this time his lips find hers. "Please don't forget…", she whispers again, breathing the words over his mouth. Her hands frame his face and her voice sounds softer still, "…I love you…". He interrupts her with another kiss, one hand cradling her head while the other presses on her lower back, touching her belly to his. He has to strain to hear her finish, "… so much."

He loves her too, more than anything, but he can only manage another shaky nod in reply. His mouth finds hers again instinctively. Their kiss is slow, all about affirmation and less about passion. Though passion is present too, as it always is with them. It's full of love and tenderness and all the words they can't speak just now because it's just too much. At the same time it's not enough. They can't get close enough, they can't touch enough and they can't love enough standing here in the kitchen of their temporary refuge with Sam and Alex just outside.

So when Nikita's arms tighten around him, he hooks his hands beneath them and lifts her a little. Just enough for her to wrap her legs around his waist, which she does, almost reflexively. And then he's carrying her. Up the stairs and to the bathroom, where they only break their embrace long enough to take off their clothes and step beneath the warm spray of the shower before they are in each other's arms again and let the water wash away the anguish of every torturous moment they have had to live through today.

* * *

They've not bothered with turning on the lights. The glow of the moon and the stars provide more than enough light to see and at the same time heighten the feeling of intimacy, of the two of them being all alone in the world right now.

Nikita has turned around and is embracing him from behind, her front pressed against his back. She caresses his arms and his chest while her lips move over his neck and shoulder. Every now and then her tongue darts out to lick a sensitive spot while her hands slowly descend further.

It's mostly her touching him due to this position, his hands skimming her hips and her arms too when they are wrapped around him, but mostly it's her bestowing all of her attention on him. It feels good, so very good. And not just to him he suspects. She's all gentle strokes, warm caresses and little kisses and he is as much soothed as he is aroused by it.

The warm water cascades over them both, adding to the stirring of his senses as slender fingers eventually grasp and fondle the flesh between his legs.

He sucks in a harsh breath and has to brace himself against the shower wall. He bows his head and for just a moment he cannot focus on anything except the sight and the feel of her hand summoning the blood to his rapidly growing erection. His breathing becomes slightly more laboured and a tingle travels down his spine at her expert caresses. Her other hand travels from his belly to his chest, splaying over his heart. Judging from the smile he feels against his neck just before she kisses him there, he knows she can feel it thundering in his chest.

He wants to touch her too. Make her feel the way he feels in her loving hands. So he reaches around them both with one hand and lets it slide down the smooth skin of her lower back until it lands upon one perfectly rounded globe. He squeezes her gently - to which she grazes the skin on his upper back with her teeth and tilts her pelvis against his buttocks. He smiles to himself and then follows the curve of her flesh down and inwards until the tips of his fingers teasingly pass over her folds. His fingers come away wet and she moans against his skin. She tugs on his length a little and it's his turn to moan.

 _It's not enough._ As much as he's loving her making love to him, he wants to be able to make love to her too and just a slightly awkward touch now and then isn't enough for him anymore. He wants to look at her, kiss her, touch her as she's touching him and he wants it now. He grasps her hands in his, lifting them to his mouth to kiss and then turns so he's facing her again.

He looks his fill of her.

She's so beautiful, bathed in moonlight. Long, smooth legs, the secret place of warm, wet silk between them. Narrow hips, one of them graced by a phoenix, depicted with dramatic elegance, a bird that is so powerful, so resilient, like she is.

His eyes fall on her toned but not overly defined belly, her upturned breasts with dusky nipples that fit in his hands so accurately. Her strong shoulders above slender arms that end in fine-boned hands. Hands that can kill swiftly and love slowly. Her fingers an everlasting source of delight. Her gorgeous face, delicate features, shining eyes that betray she's wise beyond her years and full lips that are curved into a smile just for him.

Drops of water cling to her olive skin. Her long black hair is a shiny wet sheet over her shoulders and he's mesmerised. Completely enamoured, still spellbound after all this time and everything that's happened.

"I love you", he hears himself whisper. The words don't feel adequate, but they're all he has. Her smile widens and one hand comes up to cup his jaw, his hand mirrors hers and his thumb strokes her cheekbone just before their lips meet again. He tries to put everything he feels for her into that kiss.

 _It's still not enough._ He feels her raise herself onto her toes, her free hand teasing his stomach and dipping down to his sex again and he gasps into her mouth. Of which she takes immediate advantage by deepening their kiss anew. His free hand is slightly more rough when he squeezes her bottom once more before pulling her closer to him. He releases her mouth, kissing his way down to and over her throat. She sighs when his other hand caresses her breast, her nipple already stiff and wanting against his palm and still she strokes him.

He's going to come right into her hand if he doesn't take charge soon and he fights a short and slightly desperate battle with himself between giving himself up to her touch or regaining control of his clamouring body. The last wins out.

One hand is still on her breast while the other takes hers away from his needy flesh and he kisses its palm before he puts it around his neck and touches his lips to hers again. The mating of their mouths is fierce and Michael's not quite sure which one of them is more hungry for the other right now. His free hand grazes her other breast and tickles her side before travelling lower and Nikita moans as it passes her belly and his fingers slip to that secret place between her legs.

He strokes her then, fingers sliding through her slippery folds and over the little bundle of nerves they safeguard. Her knees buckle and he releases her other breast to encircle her waist, providing support, while he teases and caresses her some more. She wiggles against his questing hand and he knows she wants more. When he pushes two of his fingers inside and up a silken wall, she shudders and very nearly comes apart in his arms as he finds and rubs that special place within.

Her mouth opens on a gasp, she's not kissing him back anymore, just moaning as he nips her lips and keeps up the rhythm his fingers stroke inside of her while his thumb finds and circles her bud. "Michael", she breathes, her fingers digging into the muscles of his neck and back.

"Please", she manages to add and he knows what she wants, for he wants exactly the same. His fingers slow and he captures her lips with his once more before withdrawing his digits from her. She sighs at the loss, but lets him turn her in his arms so that her back is to his front now.

They are both breathing heavily. His hard length is cushioned against her curves and her hands cover his as one makes its way up to cup a breast and tease its dark tip, tight with need, while the other one finds its way between her legs again. Her spine curls and her head falls back to his shoulder when his fingers play over the bundle of nerves at the centre of her desire.

She's putty in his hands as he kisses her exposed neck and gently closes his teeth over the skin where her neck ends and her shoulder begins. She moans again and her legs spread a little further, seemingly of their own volition as Nikita doesn't seem to be conscious anymore of what she's doing. A little adjustment of his hips and he's in heaven, guiding himself inside of her silky, wet heat.

He kisses her lips and over the side of her face when she angles it towards him. Nikita tilts her hips a little more and then, with just the gentlest of strokes, he's buried within her completely.

 _Oh god. So good._ Nikita shudders in his arms, a sob escaping her and he has to squeeze his eyes shut against the onslaught of delight their union brings. A tremor dances down his spine, his muscles tighten and he feels the buildup of that oh so familiar pressure. He already knows he's not going to be able to hold out for long.

Sex has always been good between them, but this is different. Her sighs and moans are joined by his and together with the rush of the shower's spray, they fill his ears. She clings to his arms that are holding her close as he moves within her. With every stroke into her body she grips him a little tighter, her inner muscles holding onto him a little longer. The sensation is overpowering him fast, but still, the delicious erotic friction they have going on between their bodies make him ache for more.

It's not all this that makes this time feel so different from all the other times they've made love and neither is their position or the decor for this tryst. If he could actually still string a coherent thought together, he might have thought it was the relief that comes from knowing they're finally free with nothing standing between them and without anything left unspoken. For the first time it's just them, nothing else, nothing lurking in the background or hanging over their heads.

As it is though he doesn't think, he just feels. Feels her pressed against him, himself enveloped inside of her and wrapped all around her. Feels her body responding to his and his to hers. It's them together, as close as can be. As they want to be, need to be. But still, this is something else. It's always been wonderful, their bodies in tune, perfectly mated. But this, this is even better. It's all love, pure and simple and nothing but.

He strokes their bodies to the pinnacle, feels the flutter deep inside of her around his throbbing flesh. Her fingers are gentle on his jaw as are his on hers as they kiss again and again, tongues stroking softly. His heart overflows and still the water rains down warm around them. Then, together, they give themselves up to heart-stopping, gorgeous release. And he just feels.

* * *

When the water loses its warmth, he still has her in his arms. They're face to face again. Or to be precise, Nikita's head is tucked beneath his chin and he's mostly holding her up as she leans rather bonelessly against him. He doesn't know how long they've been standing there in the aftermath, perfectly content, but they're going to have to move now.

He turns off the water and wraps her in a towel. When they're dried of, they crawl into bed together. She curls herself around him and he tightens his arms around her and tangles his legs with hers.

They fall asleep like that and when they're woken by the sun's first rays, they make love again. It's just as beautiful as it was underneath the shower in the middle of the night and Michael is again amazed and awed by everything she makes him feel.

Judging by her response, it's much the same for her.

After, they sleep wrapped in each other's arms once more. The day's well on its way before they manage to leave the warmth of their little hideaway and finally meet their friends.

* * *

The rest of the day passes in a flurry. There's talk about what they are all going to do next. Birkhoff is leaving for London as soon as, he's been asked to do an interview after Sonya convinced him to share Shadownet's source code with the masses. It will enable people to protect themselves from surveillance by whichever government agency so they won't have to watch out for everybody anymore, which in turn is something he realised he's done with anyway. Birkhoff has had enough. As far as he's concerned, it's someone else's turn to watch and protect now. He just wants to be with Sonya.

Alex will return to her UN ambassadorship, she loves it and will probably always be an activist for women's rights and against human trafficking. She'll be travelling across the world for it, from one continent to the next. Sam insists on being part of her security detail, which she accepts and agrees to rather quickly. This makes Michael suspect there is more going on between them, but he doesn't enquire after it. They'll tell them if and when they're good and ready.

When he asked Nikita what she wanted to do, she had simply shrugged her shoulders, not really knowing. He had suggested they take a break, a vacation of sorts. Just travel a bit and find out what comes next on their own time. She thought that a really good idea, so when she's asked what their plans are, she catches his gaze and smiles the smile she reserves only for him and answers they'll go wherever the wind takes them.

No more team Nikita. It's the end of an era really.

It's painfully clear they'll not see each other for a while once they all leave the base and go their separate ways, which leaves him with a sense of melancholy. Birkhoff puts an end to the feeling immediately though when he extends an invitation for everyone to come over for the holidays, because Christmas is a time to spend with family and where better than in London?

* * *

Ryan is included in the CIA memorial wall and his name is written in the Book of Honor. As he deserves for all he's done and all he's sacrificed. Michael sees Nikita tracing her finger over his name and knows that the grief she feels over his loss has only just begun. They had an understanding between them that he's been jealous of several times over the last few years. Something for which he thinks himself foolish now.

Maybe Ryan was interested in Nikita once, but Michael came to the conclusion some time ago that what they shared was mostly recognition of a kindred spirit. Both dedicated to uncovering the truth, both determined to find it and prepared to give up anything for it.

Michael can't help but feel relieved once again that she's still with him. This could have all ended very differently several times over.

The senator has just given them the news the doubles around the world are being apprehended as they stand there gazing at the stars on the wall. Their pardons have been signed and their new lives are about to officially begin. Without Ryan.

It's strange really how joy and pain can coexist in one moment.

* * *

He's gathering up their meagre belongings on his own. Nikita's gone out on an errand run, promising to return with some necessities for their trip. Judging from the time she's been gone it's probably turned into a shopping spree and he expects her back with more than just a few basics.

Birkhoff has left very early this morning, per his request they said their goodbyes last night. Alex's flight leaves tonight and they've decided to accompany her to the airport to wave her off and then get on the first flight with a destination that appeals to them. So he's packing and she's shopping and in just a few hours they'll be out of here. Off to god knows where.

He can hardly wait.

When she returns, it's with less bags in tow than he expected. She hands him two to take care of and takes the other two herself and locks him out of the bedroom, telling him to stay out or he'll ruin her surprise. He smiles to himself when he's walking down the stairs, he's seen the famous lingerie logo on one of her bags.

* * *

They end up in Ecuador, where they rent a little hut on the coast of the Esmeraldas overlooking the ocean. It's not very luxurious, says the man who takes them to it, but it will provide them with everything they need and Mompiche is within walking distance. He warns them to watch the tide if they plan on walking there along the coastline, at high tide the sea comes all the way up to the jungle.

There's a queensize bed with a mosquito net hanging over it, a small bathroom, a comfy but worn looking couch, a table with two chairs and a tiny kitchenette. Outside there's a hammock between two palm trees. Michael looks forward to seeing if it will hold them both.

Nikita thanks the man in his native tongue for bringing their bags inside and tips him generously and then it's just the two of them again. Michael plops down on the bed and lets himself fall backwards, closing his eyes. He's tired. He didn't sleep a wink on the plane and neither did Nikita. She was fidgeting, like he can hear she is now too.

He calls her, but she doesn't reply. By the sound of it she's rummaging through one of their bags and he sighs, debating with himself to open his eyes or not and see what she's doing that's so important right now. She's been a little off ever since she came back from her shopping expedition and he can't quite put his finger on what it is that's bothering her.

"Michael?", he doesn't hear the rustle of her rummaging around anymore and when he opens his eyes, she's no longer where she was but is standing at his feet, something clutched between her palms, slender fingers hiding it from view.

"Yes?"

"I- I know you're traditional and all that, but…", her voice doesn't have its usual tone of confidence and he frowns a little at the way she's sort of swaying to and fro on her bare feet. When she pauses he starts to sit up only to watch her kneel at his feet, the long skirt of her dress pooling around her legs.

Her hands open and with them the little box clasped between comes into view and she opens it just as she speaks again. The late afternoon sunlight casts a warm glow over the two white gold bands within and her voice is soft and low when she asks him, "Will you marry me?"

For a split second he's in shock. She's beaten him to it. And then he feels the biggest smile tugging at his lips: she beat him to it… With one hand he reaches for hers and the other reaches into his left pocket, pulling out her engagement ring. He's carried it with him since he took it out of his bag on their cargo plane. Patiently waiting for the right moment.

"Yes", he whispers as he slides it back onto her third finger. "Yes", he says again as he watches tears welling in her eyes, threatening to overflow. And "yes" he says a third time as his other hand cups her face and he kisses her tenderly.

Nikita squeezes his hand and wraps her other arm around his neck, kissing him right back. He pulls her up and together they fall back to the bed, laughing and kissing.

* * *

Michael watches the sweat drying on her skin. She's just dozed off after their latest bout of love-making. He's lying on his side, propped up on his elbow, not the least bit drowsy at all. No, he's on his second wind, feeling energised and a little giddy.

She proposed.

She actually asked him to marry her before he saw chance to ask her for the second time. And she picked out the rings with which she wants them to marry too. He smiles to himself. She keeps him on his toes, it's only one of the reasons he loves her. He hopes she'll never stop surprising him, that she'll never stop being her.

He doesn't want to wait long before he can call her his wife. They were engaged for a year before and then everything went to hell. He knows the likelihood of something like that happening again is practically nil, but still… He just wants to marry her, make her his and be hers officially.

His gaze caresses her naked form. The temptation to trace his fingers along the curve of her breast, the jutted out bone of her hip or the smoothness of her thighs is almost too much to resist. She's so beautiful, his wife to be. Both inside and out and he knows there can never be anyone but her anymore. Once again he counts his blessings, so grateful that they've made it.

* * *

They go into the village for breakfast and to stock up on groceries. The sights and smells of fresh products tease their eyes and tickle their noses while the sun warms their skin. They walk the streets hand in hand, each carrying a bag and soak up the peaceful atmosphere of the little fisherman village.

His eye is caught by a small white building bearing a cross and he halts for just a second. It's enough to alert Nikita. She stops too when she sees the simple church and together they just stand there for a bit, staring until Michael breaks the silence and tells her what he'd like most in the world, "Let's get married. Today."

Her face is transformed with the loveliest smile as she nods and together they walk up to the white chalked building.

* * *

The priest looks at them both questioningly when Michael asks him if he would marry them today. Michael sees him staring at the grocery bags dangling from their hands and isn't really surprised when the older man starts of on a lecture that marriage isn't to be entered into lightly or in the spur of the moment.

He rattles on and on until he notices the serene little smile on Nikita's lips. Then he asks Michael if this is a marriage of necessity…

 _He thinks she's pregnant._ He bites back a grin.

That's not the reason, but still, their getting married is very, very necessary to them both. Seizing his chance, he answers "yes" just as Nikita pipes up with a "no", trying to set the priest straight.

He frowns at them. "Well? Which is it?", he demands then in a tone that warns them of his growing impatience.

Michael's fingers tighten on hers and their gazes lock. A hundred things are said without either of them ever speaking a word. They reach the same conclusion easily.

This is their chance. They're grabbing it.

Together they turn to look at the priest and together they answer him. In unison.

"Yes."

* * *

Michael's putting the finishing touch on the breakfast tray he plans to wake his wife with. He's made toast and prepared some fresh fruit, coffee and juice. A few freshly picked flowers in a tall glass are the finishing touch.

They're married.

It's been three days and he still can't quite get his head around the fact that they are actually, finally married. He's not yet used to the comforting weight of the wedding band around his finger and from the tugging he feels in his cheek he knows he's been smiling a lot more than usual these past few days.

He's happy.

There's nothing else. No more anger, no more anxiety or worry, he's just happy.

Was it really not that long ago he thought he never would be again?

* * *

Cold.

Cold and wet.

He very nearly jumps from the hammock he was dozing in at the feel of chilly ocean water dripping onto his stomach. Nikita's standing next to him in her little red bikini, dripping wet and twisting her long hair to rid it of excess water. On his stomach.

And she tells him he's a tease.

His hand shoots out to grab her wrist. Stopping her from wringing more water from her hair onto his naked torso. Which is moot really, because his other hand snakes around her waist and she squeals as he pulls her into the hammock with him and then he's wet all over as her body covers his.

Her skin is cool to the touch, her voice warm as she laughs. "What do you think you're doing?", he mock-growls at her.

She laughs again. "Stop you snoring, the animals were starting to complain", she says with a triumphant grin and kisses him.

"I don't snore", he replies mildly offended.

She quirks an eyebrow at him, her fingers tickling over his chest and side, "Oh hon, you definitely do."

"Must be the hammock then", he thinks out loud.

A noncommittal "hmm" and another raised eyebrow are all she gives him in reply.

His hands trace over her curves, she wiggles a bit against him, and then to the underside of her breasts and he feels one corner of his mouth lifting up in a half-smile as he hears her breath hitching in her throat.

"Maybe we should use it for something other than sleeping?", he breathes over her lips while his fingers find the clasp of her bikini-top and then he kisses her, slowly and deeply until she moans.

As it turns out the hammock is more than sturdy enough to hold them both. Also, he does fall asleep in it again, as does she. After.

* * *

It's late in the afternoon when she wakes him with a kiss and asks him what he wants to do with the rest of their day. She's not one for lazing around all the time, his new wife. And they have spent the last week doing not much more than that and making love, just soaking each other up. Which was what they both very much wanted and needed. But if he knows what's good for him, he'll make sure she's 'stimulated' on other fronts too. Before she gets antsy.

They end up walking along the shore again to Mompiche. There's not really all that much to do here in this part of the country. He follows her eyes to a little beach front bar in the distance and he pulls her in close and suggests they figure out what they'll be doing next over a couple of Mojito's. She smiles at him, just before she kisses him and nods.

He can already see the wheels starting to turn in her head, pondering ideas. She doesn't speak about any of them yet though, instead she talks about their friends. Wondering how Alex is, what she's doing and whether or not she and Sam will bite each other's heads off before long. He's thinking if there's any biting going on between them it'll most likely be of a different kind, but he doesn't tell her that, choosing instead to reassure her with what she already knows herself, "Alex is a big girl now, she can take care of herself. You did well Nikita."

He sees a flicker of emotion passing through her eyes and then she nods. "I know", she sighs. He kisses her temple and she's silent for a beat before changing the subject to Birkhoff and Sonya and how they might be faring. He just smiles trying not to give too much thought to that, "Probably much the same as we are."

He squeezes her to him and then grabs her hand as the beach bar comes further into view. Companionable silence envelops them as they walk up to and enter the bar. He orders their drinks and watches her as she sits down at one of the tables.

She seems to be deep in thought. Still thinking about the rest of their team, he imagines. He takes their drinks and sits down next to her, smiling to himself: they're living the good life, finally.

His suspicions about her thoughts are confirmed when she reaches for his hand, their wedding rings close together, glinting in the sunlight, "Do you think they'll be mad we eloped?"

He can imagine the reactions they'll get when they tell them… To Nikita he simply says, "Well, it's not like we planned it…"

Her smile is worth a million bucks as she, like him, remembers their unconventional wedding and how it came to be. He figures if they'll ever have them, it'll be a nice story to tell their grandkids.

She lifts her glass to her lips while she speaks her next words, smile still ghosting around her lips, "I have an idea for the honeymoon." She sips her drink and tilts her head slightly, pointing out a little boy and a guerrilla fighter standing not far behind the bar. The little boy is being forced to take up arms.

He's about Max's age…

He doesn't feel torn between having a regular honeymoon or taking on another mission, he can appreciate the irony though. Missions seem to find them and they are, after all, what they do best. He's not leaving that little boy to his own devices and neither is she. She's out of her chair and he's right behind her as they run off into the sunset towards their very own happy ever after.

Together.

* * *

 _Finis_

 _ **A/N:** anybody interested in an epilogue or sequel? It will probably take me some time, because life is pretty crazy right now. But if you do, let me know and I'll write it, happily :)_


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